Page 73 of Sing For Me

“You want to know what I see when I look at you?” he asks. I can’t make my mouth work so I nod and Will slips off the edge of the tub, sliding in front of me and kneeling on the seat in the water so we’re facing each other. Slowly, so slowly, he raises a hand to brush his fingertips across my collarbones.

“The most beautiful skin I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs roughly, hand drifting lower, his gaze following his fingers as they drift across the swell of my breast. He swallows hard but doesn’t stop his journey, sliding his hand down to cup my waist. “I see this gorgeous shape you have,” he says, squeezing a little. “The way your waist tucks in here.” His palm grazes down over my hip. “These fucking amazing curves that have driven me crazy every day since I saw you standing in my shop.”

My eyes feel hot with unshed tears. His fingers are on my scar now, gripping my hip tight, and he doesn’t look disgusted. He doesn’t look afraid. He looks the same way he always does when he sees me—like he likes what he sees. Like he wants me.

His hand flexes against my hip and then relaxes. Slowly he presses the pads of his fingertips against the scar tissue, rubbing gently. Over my hip, up to my waist, all the way to the bottom of my ribs. It would tickle if I could think straight.

He finally tears his gaze away from my body to stare deep into my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so intense. So focused. So sure.

“The only thing this scar shows me is how strong you are, Eva. And if you think that strength makes you look lessbeautifulto me, you’re absolutely fucking insane.”

I let out a noise between a sob and a laugh and Will has me in his arms before I can blink, his lips pressing into my hair while his hands roam over every inch of exposed skin, lighting my body on fire.

“Will,” I whisper into his chest.

“Yeah, honey?”

There’s something about the way he says the word, all deep and smooth, like dark whiskey sliding off his tongue, that has my stomach clenching in desire. I’m not usually a fan of pet names, but damn if Will Ransome doesn’t make it sound good.

“Do you think we could…I don’t know. Take a time out?”

His hands still in their journey over my bare, wet skin. “A time out from what?”

I let out a shuddering breath, everything in me hot and needy, wishing he would keep touching me. “From the whole friendship thing.”

He pulls back, dark eyes searching my face. “You want a time-out from being friends?”

I nod, bringing my hands up to glide across that beautiful, solid chest. “I really, really want to kiss you.”

Realization dawns on his face, his expression somehow softening even more and I can’t help but smile. This big, bearded, inked-up man is so gentle with me, so sweet.

And I know right then that this isn’t a simple crush anymore. Just friends or not, I’m falling for Will Ransome, falling hard. And if I don’t want to lose him, I’m going to have to find some bravery somewhere inside me.

With shaking fingers, I reach behind me and tug on the ties of my bikini. Will’s eyes widen, his breath catching. “Is this okay?” I whisper.

“Fuck, yes,” he mutters, so fierce I have to laugh. Will sets his burning eyes on me and grins. “I’m one hundred percent on board with a friendship break.”

I breathe out in relief. I would never want to lead him on. We need to be on the same page if anything is going to—

Apparently, I’m stalling too much because Will reaches behind me to tug on the strings at my neck.

Everything seems to happen very fast after that. Will’s hands are everywhere at once, his lips following close behind while I tip my neck back, staring up at the inky sky, gasping for breath, until it feels too good and I have to close my eyes against the onslaught.

But Will isn’t having that. “Look at me,” he growls, just before his lips cover the tip of my breast.

“I can’t!” I gasp, and the smile pressed to my skin turns positively wicked as he slides down my body, past my belly button, to the place between my thighs that’s begging for him.

“Try,” he murmurs.

Then he uses that wicked mouth and those strong fingers to bring me right to the edge, not relenting until I go crashing right over it, pleasure like I’ve never known slamming through me.

And, somehow, I manage to keep my eyes on his the entire time, even as the dark fire I see in his irises ignites me from the inside out. For the last year and a half, nothing has terrified me more than the memory of flames. But these flames—the ones I feel spreading out from my core to the tips of my toes, the ones only Will has ever been able to ignite—I’d be happy to let them consume me.

Afterwards, he doesn’t ask for anything for himself. Pushes my hand away when I tried to repay the favor, whispering that tonight was for me. Then he plucks me up out of the water and I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him tightly as he carries me into my house to get dry.